


We’re All Fallen

by ashes_and_ashes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marauders, Marauders era, Slow Burn, Wolfstar AU, first wizarding war, villian au, wolfstar, wolfstar angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes_and_ashes/pseuds/ashes_and_ashes
Summary: Remus exhaled, hard, spreading the robe out on the bed.He knew, knew that if he checked the pocket or the hood or the label at the hem he would find the words. Sirius Orion Black, neatly embroidered in impeccable writing, the threads still gleaming even after all these years.He had left it in Remus’ chest, during his last night at Hogwarts. He never came back for it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve had this idea in my head for ages now (mainly due to the massive amounts of Spideytorch Fan fiction that I have consumed) and I thought about giving this au a go. Hope it’s okay!!

“They got another one,” Fabian said.

Remus stared up at him, blinking dumbly in the light. It was early, in that moment between daylight and twilight, bits of it streaming in through the shuttered windows. It illuminated random things in the room; the glint of Marlene’s hair, the tip of Lily’s wand, the weathered and worn edges of the crinkled map lying on the table between them. He stifled a yawn, running his hands through his hair. “Got another what?”

Dorcas glared at him. “What do you fucking think? Another scouting party.”

The yawn dies in his mouth. Remus closed his eyes, swallowed hard. “Shit. Shit, Dorcas, I’m sorry - “

“How.” Gideon’s hands lay clenched on the table, white knuckled against the dark wood. “How did they find us this time? Did you have the wards?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Dorcas hissed. “Everything. We put up  _ everything _ and they still got in.”

“Shit,” James said. His eyes burned in the candlelight, reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. “How though?”

“ _ If I fucking knew I’d tell you _ ,” Dorcas spat. She looked like she was about to say more if it wasn’t for Marlene quickly grabbing her hand. She tightened her grip, the blood draining from her fingers. “I don’t know. We had the two scouts posted, all the wards, everything. Our backs were to the mountains - they couldn’t have come from there. Only way they could have come in was through the pass, but we had people there. We would have known.”

Remus cursed, eyes scanning the map in front of him. Beside him, Fabian traced the thick black lines, fingers running over the rivers and mountains and forests. “Maybe - “

“By air.” Remus swallowed, his hand hovering inches over the paper. “They could have apparated in. Used brooms to sneak over the first layer of wards.

Take out the sentries and you could position yourself to….to….”

“Kill your group.” Lily swore. “Shit.”

Dorcas let out a humorless laugh; for the first time Remus noticed the bloodied cloth that she kept pressed to her arm. “Shit sounds about right.”

There was a thump from underneath the table. Gideon had kicked it, hard, upsetting the plastic and metal figurines resting on top of it. With a grimace, he stood, flicking his wand, returning them to the surface of the table. He swallowed. “Sorry.”

Fabian shared his grim look. He considered the map. “That only leaves us with Hogsmeade and Godrics’ Hollow as secure base points. We might have the Quidditch World Cup Field, but I haven’t received any information on that.” 

Marlene lifted her head, blonde strands falling all around her face. She looked exhausted, face drawn and pale. “I have a few people there, but not enough to hold back an attack. They’ll be overrun if the Death Eaters decide to focus there.” 

Remus nods, focusing back down on the map. Next to him, James shifted, fingers turning over the handle of his wand. Lily slumped in her chair, the flickering candlelight turning her normally vibrant hair dull. “How many dead?” she asked.

Dorcas stiffened in her chair, Marlene’s hand a vice-grip on her arm. “We had 18 people there. 12 died in battle - we only managed to grab 10 bodies before we evacuated. I don’t know….I don’t know how many will survive the night.”

It felt like a thread, deep inside of Remus, being pulled tighter and tighter with every word she said. He knew the odds, knew they didn’t have more than a fool’s hope to defeat Voldemort, but he’d thought they would at least have a chance to fight back, a chance to do  _ something _ to his army of Death Eaters before they were wiped from the world forever. He swallowed, fingers tightening on the table, making the wood groan. The sound made the others look up sharply at him and he winced. “Sorry.”

He let go of the table, trying to ignore the dents pressed into the surface. He often forgot about his werewolf strength, and it tended to surface whenever he was stressed. 

Gideon crossed his arms. It was eerie, sometimes, how much he looked like his brother, the same red hair and tanned skin and lean bodies. But Gideon’s temper flared higher then Fabian’s, anger radiating through every bone in his body. Subtly, Fabian reached over, a steadying touch against his brother’s rage. “Is it the Hunter?”

Remus felt the room go quiet. 

They all knew about the Hunter, Voldemort’s latest attack dog. Vicious and precise and impossible to track and no one had any bloody idea who the bastard was. They seemed to know all their plans, all their bases and defenses and by God Remus wanted to kill whoever the fuck they were.

“I don’t know,” Dorcas said. She closed her eyes.

Remus took a steadying breath. “Okay. So, we add more wards. Air defenses, maybe some early broom detection - “

“We already have so many,” Lily snapped. “I don’t know how much more we can add on without exhausting our soldiers.”

Gideon gritted his teeth. “So what? We’re just not supposed to  _ do _ anything - “

James let out a shaking breath. “Okay. This meeting isn’t going anywhere. Let’s focus on….on the funeral. We’ll meet again the day after.”

It was obvious that Dorcas didn’t want to leave, that fragile edge still gleaming in her eyes, but Marlene stood. She pulled Dorcas up with her, voice gentle. “Come on, Dor. Let’s go to bed.”

“Everything will be better in the morning,” Lily said. “Trust me. When we’ve all had enough sleep - “

“Sleep won’t bring them back,” Dorcas muttered, her voice terribly flat. “I can sleep plenty when I’m dead.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried, echoing through the silent room. She glanced at the cloth on her arm, wincing, and Marlene lead her out.

“That went well,” Fabian muttered, ignoring his brother’s glare. He rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right. Let’s regroup later.”

“If we live that long,” Gideon muttered darkly.

Remus shook his head, shoving his chair underneath him. “Goddamnit,” he swore, stalking out of the room, the sounds of his footsteps chasing him up the stairs.

~

He hated digging.

Hated everything about it; the weight of the shovel in his hands, the layer of dirt coating his skin and his clothes and under his nails. He hated breathing it in, all of the particles trapped in his nose and his mouth, tasting dust whenever he swallowed.

He glared down at the pit he stood in, sucking air into his aching lungs. His hands throbbed, in time with his heartbeat, small beads of blood coating the handle of the shovel.

_ No magic _ . They had set that rule down, ages ago, when the number of living had once outnumbered the dead.  _ No magic to dig the graves. _

They had broken the rule before, of course, when the battles were too big or when their enemies were too close. He knew the feeling, of tossing bodies onto wood, watching the flames rise and burn, the smell of roasting flesh filling the air. Pyres, hundreds of them, all different sizes to accommodate the corpses.

But whenever they could, whenever they had time, they always tried to bury the bodies.

Remus paused now, staring down into the pit he had dug. Around him, the sounds of shovels hitting dirt filled the air, muffled grunts and curse words hissed under breaths. They were all digging, him and James and Lily and Marlene, Dorcas and Fabian and Gideon, all helping to bury the dead. 14 graves for 14 bodies, their bodies in a line along the edges of the holes. 

He swore, wincing as his nail caught on a wooden splinter on the shovel. Blood trickled down his finger, pooling in his hand, and Remus sighed.

_ We all end up bleeding, _ he thought, wrapping his blistered hand around the handle again. He coughed, dirt rising in his throat, gritty and rough, redoubling his efforts on the hole; he’s dug enough graves by now to know how deep they need to be, how wide to accommodate the corpse. 

When he’s done, he climbs out of the hole, brushing the debris off his pants. He wants to spit the dirt out of his mouth but he holds it in, yanking his wand out of his pocket. As gently as he can, he lowers the body into the grave.

She was young. They almost all were, young and naive and hopeful enough to fight for a doomed cause. There were blue streaks in her dark hair, 3 earrings in one ear, the signs of someone who died far too soon.

It scared him, sometimes, how much he had gotten used to it, the endless parade of bodies. He used to be horrified by it, the idea of touching dead flesh, the idea of looking at something that had once lived and laughed and loved.

But now, he just felt sorrow when he stared at the body, sorrow and exhaustion.  _ When will this ever end? _

He realized that he had spent far too much time standing in this hole, with a person that was long dead and Remus sighed. He vaulted himself out of the grave, wand in his hand. He flicked it, the dirt magically packed back into the ground, seeping into the corners and through the cracks until the only indication of the grave was the darkness of the dirt compared to the rest of the soil. He swallowed, placing the flowers that they had all bought on top of the mound, stepped back and away from the silent body.

There’s the sound of padding feet next to him, and Remus looked up. For an instant, just an instant he expects to see someone else, dark hair instead of light, grey eyes instead of blue. 

The illusion quickly faded though, replaced by Marlene, face streaked with dirt and eyes haunted, hair escaping from the tight bun on her head. With a sigh, she sat down, tucking her legs underneath her. “I’m worried about Dorcas.”

Remus followed her gaze, to where Dorcas’ tiny frame was still digging. It was her third hole, mud and dirt covering her arms, teeth bared. He looked back at Marlene. “Yeah. She hasn’t been good since yesterday.”

“She lost pretty much her entire scouting group,” Marlene said. She looked down, brushed her fingers across the dry dirt. “They were cut down in front of her. She had to apparate out holding the bodies.”

“That’s enough to mess anyone up,” Remus murmured. He sighed, the cuts on his hand starting to sting. “God. She must be wrecked.”

“She won’t talk to me,” Marlene whispered. “She won’t say anything. Just sat there all of last night and didn’t move a muscle. It was like she was dead.”

_ Dead _ . The word echoed around Remus’ head. Suddenly, the amount of graves on the ground seemed larger, the air colder. He almost could imagine voices, whispering and hollow, bodies moving from where they were trapped underneath the earth, digging their way up to where he and Marlene sat -

Remus violently leashed the thoughts, wrapping them up and shoving them deep inside of himself. He hissed, eyes narrowing as he scanned the field.

Marlene was on he feet in an instant, hand at her side. “What?”

“Nothing.” Remus frowned. “Never mind, I just thought….it’s nothing.”

“You sure?” Marlene raised her eyebrow. “You have better senses then I do. Given that you’re a….you know.”

_ Werewolf _ . The word hangs between them.

It still felt strange sometimes, knowing that the others knew about his lycanthropy. He had gotten used to only Lily and James and Peter and Sirius knowing -

_ Sirius _ . The word was a blow. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry or scream or potentially blowing the camp up. He swallowed. “No. It’s nothing.”

Marlene gives him a concerned look, but let’s it pass. She bites her lip, turning her gaze towards Dorcas. “She’s so….broken.”

In the darkness behind his eyelids, Remus lets out a shaking breath. “We’re all broken,” he said.

~

Remus sat on his bed, turning the package over in his hands. It was wrapped in paper, the edges of fabric just visible through the rips, crackling as he brushed it with his fingers. 

He always did this, whenever the memories were too much, too strong, burning up inside of him. Normally he tried to keep them down, smothering them deep inside of him, shoving them into a tiny little ball that lay burried in his soul but today he couldn’t. Today was rough and tomorrow would be rougher and sometimes all Remus wanted to do was fall asleep forever.

He shakes the feeling, his head buzzing slightly as he set the package in his lap. It was neatly wrapped, corners tucked down and pressed flat, the edges slightly ragged from where he had unwrapped it so many times before.

Remus swallowed before reaching down, running his fingers underneath the flap and pulling it gently aside, the paper drifting down onto the floor. The garment was neatly folded, heavy in his fingers and he let the fabric spill down onto the bed. 

It was a Hogwarts robe, the scarlet and the gold still stark against the black, the crest glistening on the pocket. Remus exhaled, hard, spreading the robe out on the bed. 

He knew, knew that if he checked the pocket or the hood or the label at the hem he would find the words.  _ Sirius Orion Black _ , neatly embroidered in impeccable writing, the threads still gleaming even after all these years. 

He had left it in Remus’ chest, during his last night at Hogwarts. He never came back for it. 

He lets out a harsh breath, reaching a hand (only slightly shaking) into the pocket. He already knew what he would find inside of it, but he took the object out anyways, letting it rest in his hand.

It was just a simple ring, a band of silver that gleamed in the dull light but Remus still caught his breath. He rolled it in his fingers for a moment, letting it roll around his palm before slipping his finger through it.

It fit perfectly, as it always did. It always would - it was enchanted to stay on, to change with Remus as he grew, as his hands changed. 

He didn’t want to think about who had enchanted it. About who had given it to him, long ago, on a cold winter’s night before a full moon. Whispers and murmurs and the faintest edge of a kiss and he  _ didn’t want to think about that either. _

Remus swallowed, fingers splaying apart, the ring sliding over his knuckle.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Remus whipped his head up. “Come in,” he called, and James entered the room.

He took in the sight; the fallen paper and black robe and the silver ring on Remus’ finger, glittering in the dim room. If it had been anyone else, Remus might have been embarrassed but it was just James. James, who had watched him transform into a wolf, who had set his broken bones and healed his cuts and saved his life more times then Remus could count. James, who was practically family at this point, who was the only other person still alive that knew Sirius Black like Remus did.

James didn’t say anything, though, just sat on the edge of the bed. He folded his legs underneath him, the opposite of Sirius, who would have kicked his long legs up and tilted his head back, leaning it against the wall - 

Remus quickly shakes his head, tried to keep the pain from showing on his face. He had gotten good at that, over the years, learnt to mask his temper, hide it behind a wall of ice. He had learnt it from Sirius, in fact.

And there he went again. Sirius. He saw him in everything, in the leather jacket hanging on the wall or in the kickstand of a motorcycle. The edges of James’ broom when he flew, far enough away that Remus could pretend it was Sirius. 

He tried to forget about Sirius Black but it never worked.

Fabian had asked him, just once.  _ “Why do you still hang on? You were only 15. 4 years. That’s not a lot of time.” _

And he was right. 4 years wasn’t a lot of time but it was enough. Enough time for Sirius Black to grab onto Remus’ heart, tight enough that even now, 4 years later, he still hadn’t let go. 

The bed crawled underneath Remus, James leaning back against the headboard. He spun his wand in his hand, idly, twisting it between his fingers, and Remus was reminded of James on a broomstick, a golden snitch dancing through his hands. 

James flips the wand then catches it; sparks flew from the tip. “It’s strange,” he said. “To think that Hogwarts was only 2 years ago.”

2 years. It felt much, much longer then that, a fever-dream made out of fog and mist. Was it really 2 years ago, when he stood on that stage, diploma clutches tightly in his hands? 3 years ago when he was Prefect? 4 years ago when Sirius left? 

It felt far too long ago for just 2 years.

Remus looked down; sparks from James’ wand twinkled against the floor, golden one instant and then fading into hard stone in the next. He tried to keep his voice steady. “2 years ago our worst fear was getting caught by Filch.”

James laughed. “2 years ago the most panicked that I had ever felt was when McGonagall caught us sneaking into the Slytherin’s dorms.”

_ And look at us now _ , thought Remus. He remembered the panic he had once felt, looking into McGonagall’s livid eyes, the waves of terror that had spread through his body. The feeling of nausea, of drowning, the fear that she would take away his prefect badge, kick him out of Hogwarts and onto the streets.

Now, the only time that level of panic emerged was when he was on the battlefield. 

It was as if James had read his thoughts - he sighed, lowering his arms from where they had been resting against his head. “God. I would take 5 detentions every day for the rest of my life if it meant all of us getting out of here safely.”

“Oh?” Remus raised a brow. “How long do you plan to live?”

James flashed him a smile. “82 or so? Enough to see my grandchildren.”

“410 detentions?”

“You’re right,” James said. “Let’s live until 84. That’s a much better number.”

“Wonderful,” Remus muttered. “I can do the math, James.” 

James just grinned at him, one of his wide, open smiles. He leaned back, head resting on the edge of the wall. “Well. You were the best in the class.”

Remus shrugged. “Sure.” There was a piece of string poking out from the sleeve of the Hogwarts robe and he picked at it, pulling it with his fingernails, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. He’s aware of James’ gaze on his back, piercing between his shoulder blades and Remus shifted. “What?”

James’ voice was quiet. “You’re thinking about him again. Aren’t you?”

Remus sighed, letting his head drop. It was like something was stuck in his throat, pressing against his windpipe, cutting off all air to his lungs. His heart ached, burned almost, a bitter taste filling his mouth. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific. I always seem to be thinking about Sirius.”

James meets his gaze. “He  _ did _ seem to have an odd habit of working his way into your brain, didn’t he?” 

Remus shrugged, trying to ignore the soreness in his throat, the same one that always seemed to come whenever he thought about Sirius. “What can I say?” he murmured, turning so that he could fully see James. “You’re the only other person who knew him like I did.”

“Peter did.” 

“Peter’s dead.” Remus said flatly. “Killed by the Hunter. So there’s no point talking about him.”

There was a flash of grief in James’ eyes, echoing the ache in his heart. So many of them had died for the Order, sacrificed everything and they were still hilariously, hopelessly outmatched. 

“Anyways,” Remus said, “Sirius is gone now. I don’t know if I should be grateful for that or not.”

James tilts his head. “He would have been useful.”

“But that’s the thing,” Remus croaked out. His voice sounded strained, thin, like a piece of cloth drawn too tight and just about to snap. “Would he have joined us? Would he have fought with us, against his mother and Bella and….”

“Reg.” The world was pained, James flinching slightly. “Would he have fought against Regulus?”

“I don’t know.” Remus laughed, bitterly. “Guess we’ll never know.”

There was a silence between them, long and lasting but it didn’t bother Remus. He and James were close, closer then brothers; they never needed words to communicate. He coughed, looking down, his fingers still twisting around the ring. 

James’ voice was quiet, so soft that it almost sounded like a breath. “You were in love with him. Weren’t you?”

Remus whipped his head around, so fast he thought he might have sprained his neck. “ _ What _ ?”

“You two.” James cleared his throat. “You and Sirius. You were together, weren’t you?”

Panic started to bubble up inside of him, like a geyser of water erupting from the ground. Remus opened his mouth, about to protest, then snapped it shut. “How….”

James smiled. “It was like….” He trailed off. “I don’t know. I just….suspected it. It was like he was the sun, the center of your universe. You always seemed so much happier around him.”

“Did he love me?” Remus’ voice was a whisper. “Did he love me back?”

James met his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not Sirius.” A small smirk stretched itself across his face. “But I think so.”

The bed seemed too small, the blankets twisting around his legs. With a curse, Remus stood, casting the sheets onto the floor. “I don’t know,” he spat, starting to pace around the room. “I keep telling myself that 15 is too young. That there is no way I could have loved Sirius like I did. Like I do. Because it’s been 4 years and I’ve only known him for 4 years and I would have killed for him - “

“Re.” James was on his feet too, arms spread wide like he was trying to calm a beast.  _ Appropriate _ , thought Remus.  _ I am a beast _ .

James flung his hands out. “Look, Re. Yes, 4 years is a short time. But we’re in war. We’ve killed and tortured, we’ve brought fortresses to the ground.  _ We’ve grown up.” _

“Too much,” Remus said. “We’ve grown up too much.” He swore. “I don’t know. I loved him. I’m sure of that. I thought he loved me.”

“Did you ever….” James trails off. “Did you ever….?”

“Kiss?” Remus closed his eyes, remembering a train station and a brick wall and a fierce, clutching kiss; Sirius’ hands on Remus’ robes, Remus’ fingers twined in Sirius’ hair. He swallowed. “Once. And I thought it would be enough.”

“Re…..”

“He left,” Remus whispered, and his voice was full of tears. “He left. Without telling anyone he just  _ left _ . He left his cloak in my trunk and I kept writing to him and he never responded. And I can’t help but think that….that maybe it was me. Maybe he couldn’t handle a boy, a  _ werewolf  _ being in love with him. Maybe he thought exile was better then that.”

“I don’t believe it.” James’ voice was firm. “He wouldn’t have. You know Sirius as well as I do - he would have never just abandoned his friends like that. There must have been something - “

“Maybe that  _ was _ the something.” Remus sniffs, trying desperately not to start crying. “And I keep wondering what would have happened if I just  _ hadn’t  _ kissed him. Would he have stayed? Would he have been here right now?”

“Maybe. Maybe he’d be here right now. But he could also be dead. He could be mouldering in one of those shallow graves we dug. You don’t know, Remus.” James let out a breath. “You can’t think about all the choices you made - you’ll drive yourself mad. The only thing you can change is the future. That’s it. And maybe….” He hesitated. “Maybe if we survive this shitstorm we’ll find him.”

Remus just nodded. “Maybe.”

James looked up at him. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it. “Okay. Well, you should get some sleep. We have a strategy meeting tomorrow. At 6.”

“Thanks.” Remus nodded, watching as James walked out. He stared at the robe on his bed, the ring on his finger, the way the light caught on the slender band.

He wanted to scream or cry or throw the whole collection at the wall but he was just too tired. The day had taken a lot out of him, draining him down to the bones.

With a sigh, Remus curled up on the bed, tucking his feet underneath the blankets, pressing the robe up to his face. It smelled vaguely of Sirius, pine and silver and something so distinctively  _ him _ . For a moment, he was in the Shrieking Shack, curled up next to Sirius, breathing him in and knowing that he would be okay. He would survive.

Remus fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He could already tell that he had slept in for far too late judging by the light.

Remus bolted up, smacking his head on the side of the wall. The Hogwarts robe was tangled around his legs, wrapped around his knees and he hurriedly peeled it off, tossing it onto the bed. The ring was still jammed on on his finger, glittering underneath his knuckle but he couldn’t be bothered to take it off. He grabbed a sweater, yanked it on on top of the ratty shirt he wore and bolted out of the room, grabbing his wand on the way. 

The stairs creaked as he ran down them, echoing in the near-empty halls. He swore, kicking them with his foot as he flung open the nearest door on the left.

6 pairs of eyes stared at him as he stood there, panting, in his hideous, ragged sweater and messy hair.

Remus winced. “Sorry.”

“Whatever.” Dorcas hissed the word as she turned her attention to the map. There were blisters dotting her palms, oozing blood all over thick parchment: Sirius caught Marlene’s eye and winced. “Sorry,” he said again. 

Lily shot him an evil look, pointing her wand at his chair. It slid out with a bang, clattering against the wooden floor. “Sit _ down _ .”

“We’re planning an attack,” Fabian told him, gesturing to the map. “Our scouts say that there’s a base near the town here.” He tapped the paper, which crinkled underneath his hand.

Remus swallowed. “Which scouts.” 

“ _ The only ones I happen to fucking have left,” _  Dorcas growled. She shoved her chair back, like she was about to storm over and murder Remus, before Marlene flung an arm out. “Dor. Sit your ass down.”

Dorcas slapped Marlene’s hand away. “I thought you’d understand. Out of everyone here, I thought you would understand.” 

Marlene’s face closed off, her cheeks going white. Dorcas just turned away, eyes flashing as she slumped back down onto the table, aiming a kick at one of the chair legs. “Well, great,” she muttered. “Guess I ruined the damn party.”

James winced. “Let’s just focus on planning this raid,” he said.

He was trying. They were all trying, so damn hard, trying to work together and plan attacks and hold this bloody resistance together and Remus didn’t know if it would be enough. 

It rarely was ever enough. 

He sighed, pulling the map towards him. The paper was crumpled, tears along the edges and around the borders, the ink fading from the illustrations on the land masses. The map had hung, once, on the wall of Dumbledore’s office, and was a subject of great debate amongst everyone; Lily, Dorcas and James thought that the map might have some strange power (“Dumbledore gave it to us,” Lily had said. “There’s got to be a reason for that!”), whilst Remus, Fabian, Gideon and Marlene all thought that they should burn the damn thing (“When has Dumbledore ever made any sense?” Fabian shot back. “His opening speech during our last year was the word ‘Piffpocket’ and nothing else.”) 

Either way, the map had stayed, as old and tattered as it was, and Remus frowned at the faded words. “I need light,” he muttered. 

Gideon flicked his wrist at the cabinet next to the table; with a soft  _ whoosh _ , a collection of uneven candles flew out of the drawers. Fabian lit them on fire with a poke of his wand, making them spin slowly around Remus’ head. 

“Thanks.” Remus bent down over the map again. “Okay. Well, if Dorcas’ information is right - “

“It  _ is _ ,” she hissed.

“ - then we should probably go for this base over here.” Remus indicated the spot on the map. “Looks fairly simple. We can use the buildings for cover. Get in, get out. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Unless that Hunter bastard is there,” Marlene muttered.  

The mood in the room dimmed. Marlene winced. “Sorry. Just thought I’d throw that out there.”

James frowned, poking at the map. “Yeah. See how bottlenecked this alleyway is. We could be trapped like fish in a barrel.”

“Not if we take the roof,” Lily murmured. “Send all 7 of us in. Surround the base.”

“We can put anti-apparition wards on the place as well.” Fabian cocked his head - there was a gleam of excitement shining in his eyes. “They can’t escape that way.” 

Remus could feel it, that thick tension filling the room, the possibility of a plan, of something,  _ anything _ going right. It was intoxicating, spreading around the room: he could see it in Marlene’s smirk, Gideon’s raised eyebrow, the way Dorcas leaned forwards in her seat, and how Lily twirled her hair around her finger. For the first time in ages, they had a plan. 

He locked eyes with James from across the table; he knew James would feel it too. That feeling of satisfaction, like a perfectly planned prank, the knowledge that nothing could go wrong. For a moment, he was 13 again, mapping out a route into the Slytherin Prefect’s dormitories, all four of them seated around the table in the common room. For a moment, it was just him and James and Peter and Sirius.

Remus slowly shook his head, banishing the memories, trying not to think of Sirius. He cleared his throat. “Alright,” he said. “We need to plan this out properly. Someone get me a quill.”

~

He always hated this part. 

Standing in the gear room, looking out of the window, nerves churning in his stomach. Looking around at everyone, knowing that this may be the last time they would all be in here alive. 

He tried to not think about that. They would make it. They had to make it. 

He had never been that close to anyone, barring Lily and James. He had always kept to himself, because  _ what if he got thrown out? What if someone discovered his secret?  _

He didn’t know if he would be able to handle it, having to say goodbye to everyone, knowing that he would never see them again. Better not to get attached. 

The last 2 years had changed him. They had all joined the Order, almost immediately after school had ended, after they had stepped outside of Hogwarts for the very last time. It was a shock, going from classrooms to battlegrounds, from schoolyard jinxes to unforgivable curses. 

He still remembered a speech Dumbledore had given them, right before their first battle. It was terrifying, to see him, the twinkle in his eye replaced with a quiet, cold fury.  _ You fight for others. For your lovers, your family, your friends. You fight for a better world. _

And it was all very easy to say that, to sit on your throne and preach sacrifice, but Remus had never seen Dumbledore fight. Nobody ever had. 

The jangling from in front of him made him sit up, eyes blearily focusing on a silvery cloak held in front of him. “Here.” James thrust the garment into Remus’ lap. “Enchanted. Should repel a few curses and things.”

Remus frowned down at the fabric. “A few curses and things? Like….how many curses and things?”

James shrugged. “60 percent? Better than nothing.” He stood up, stretching his hands above him, sauntering down the corridor.

“Oh.” Remus bit his lip. “Wait. Is it 60 percent effective, or 60 percent  _ ineffective _ ? James _? _ ” He scowled at the robe in his lap, examining the silvery threads woven through the dark cloth before gingerly pulling it on. It was slightly too big for him, reaching far below his knees, and he pulled at the hem. “Well. Crap.” 

Marlene stomped over, yanking at her own cloak. “Cheer up. Mine smells like blood.” 

Remus raised his eyebrow. “Blood?”

“Blood.” Marlene pouted. “You know. The metallic, red fluid that comes out of holes in your skin?” 

Remus flipped her off. 

“Anyway,” she continued, “We have some new folks coming in tomorrow. Kingsley and Mary, Benjy and a couple others. To replace….” 

Remus looked down. “The ones Dorcas….?”

“Yeah.” Marlene bit her lip. She scowled at the ground. “I don’t know. She won’t talk. She won’t eat. She barely does anything except plot revenge and train.” 

“She’s watched people die before,” Remus said, and immediately winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s personal, though.” Marlene sighed. “She trained them. They died under her command.” 

Remus slumped against the wall. A pounding headache was beginning to build in his skull, throbbing with every word Marlene said. He was about to ask for a pain reliever when Fabian stepped up to the front, clearing his throat. “Right. Um….you know the drill. We get in, we get out. Try and capture a Death Eater alive. Don’t miss the portkey because we can’t apparate.” He paused. “So….yeah.”

“Great speech!” James called out, and a bit of nervous laughter filled the room. 

Fabian flipped him off, scowling. “You do one then.” 

James spread his arms wide. “Kick ass. We’ve got this. Don’t fuck this up.” 

Remus rolled his eyes, matching the similar expression on Fabian’s face. He stormed over to James, yanked the portkey out of his hand. “Everyone, grab on!” 

Lily glanced at the clock on the wall. “3….2….”

It was sudden, the sharp  _ jerk _ between his rib cage. There was no flashing lights or heavy smoke; with nothing more than an inhaled breath, they all disappeared.

~

The battle was almost too easy. 

He remembers the beginning, all of them fresh out of school, the panic and terror when they fought for the first time. The bleeding bodies and bits of bone, the streaks from jets of magic filling the air, screams carrying on the dying wind. That moment after, when the field went horribly, awfully silent. From a distance, all the bodies looked the same. 

He was unhinged, then. They had all teamed up, instinctively, the twins together, Marlene and Dorcas back to back and James and Lily side by side. It was odd, being alone, without the comforting presence of someone next to him, watching over him. He found himself calling warnings for a person not actually there, carelessly fighting because he thought someone was watching his back.

They had all limped off the battlefield, injured in some way or another, bleeding into the dirt, eyes haunted, because it was the first time most of them had ever taken a life. They had spent the night together, too tired to sleep, dreams filled with flashes of the people they killed.

The next morning they woke up and fought again. 

Remus exhaled, his breath forming clouds in front of him. All around his feet lay bodies, black cloaks gathered around them like a pool of darkness, hiding the blood that must have been spilled.

He had long ago lost count of the number of lives he had taken.

The battle had been fast. The 7 of them were skilled now, ruthless with years of practice. Fabian and Gideon stormed the entrance, James and Lily entering through the windows, Remus picking off anyone who tried to flee. Marlene and Dorcas were on the roof, their spells silencing anyone who managed to escape, and before they knew it the base was destroyed and that awful quiet filled the air. 

He stood next to Marlene now, looking in through the remains of a shattered window, at the lone Death Eater in the room below. Dorcas sat in front of him, tipped back on her chair, wand in her hand as she lazily lit the tip on fire. Lily had put up silencing charms, so that no sound escaped, but they could still see everything.

Marlene was silent as she watched, face expressionless. “I hate seeing her like this.”

“Like what?” Remus breathed. He was too focused on Dorcas, now pressing the burning tip of her wand into the Death Eater’s hand. 

“Like….that.” Marlene trailed off, wincing as the Death Eater’s mouth opened in a silent scream. “I fell in love with her, you know. Back in 5th year. Right around the same time as you.”

Remus flinched. “We weren’t - “

“Yes, you were.” Marlene shrugged. “I loved her because she was gentle. She wanted to be a healer, wanted to change the world. She joined the Order because of that. She wanted a better life for everyone.”

There were slashes on the Spy’s face now, rows of them, neat and precise, reminding Remus of surgical wounds. He nodded, his breath fogging the remainder of the broken glass in the window. “We all want a better life.”

“She was so gentle,” Marlene said. “Always. And now….” She closed her eyes. 

Remus nods, his eyes fixed on the Death Eater, now screaming as Dorcas worked on him. There was no light in her eyes, just a silent, quiet rage, and he knew that this way payment for her lost scouting party.

“War changes people,” Marlene whispered. “Make sure we can change back.”

Suddenly, Dorcas looked up, her eyes panicked. She made a motion, with her hand, a quick flip of her wrist.  _ Come down _ . 

Remus nodded, bolting up and down the stairwell, Marlene at his side. He almost crashed into Lily and James, snogging in the corridor. “What’s - “ James started, before Remus shook his head. “Dorcas wants us.” 

James pressed his lips together before nodding, pushing the door open to the room. 

Instantly, Remus was assaulted by the heat, the stench of burning flesh, the metallic tang of blood. The Death Eater lay crumpled in a heap of chains, the skin around his wrists rubbed raw. He was laughing, though, a broken, wheezing laugh. 

“What’s this,” Lily asked, shooting the laughing man a disgusted look. “Why is he - “

Dorcas shook her head. “Just listen.” 

“ - Dead, all of you, we sent the best, you’ll all be dead, dead all of you….”

Marlene whirled on her girlfriend, eyes blazing. “Did you shatter his mind?” 

“No!” Dorcas flung her hands out wide. “I know my limits! He just started….saying that!”

“Limits,” Marlene scoffed. “You’ve been going crazy ever since you lost your party. You probably screwed him up completely.” 

Dorcas drew back, her face white. “Don’t. Don't you even - “

“What’s going on?” The doors burst open with a clatter; Gideon and Fabian bursting into the room. “Why - how - “

Dorcas pointed at the laughing Death Eater. “He’s gone off the rails.”

Remus shook his head, mutely. There was something eerie about the words, something echoing inside of his head.  _ Dead, all of you. We sent our best. _

“Shit,” he whispered, and James looked over sharply. “What?” 

“We need to go. Now!” 

Fabian’s eyes winded. “Dead, all of you….”

“They sent the Hunter after us,” Marlene breathed. “Damn it! We need to leave, now!” 

“But- “ Lily started. She never got to finished her sentence. With a bang, a bolt of dark green light erupted from the walls, hitting Gideon squarely in the stomach.

~

For a moment, all Remus could hear was ringing, persistent and high pitched, echoing in the room. There was smoke everywhere, making his throat tighten; he coughed as he tried to spit it out.

“Everyone, out!” Fabian roared, though Remus couldn’t see him thanks to the fog. There was another streak of light, this time white; he heard Lily scream. He started towards her blindly, heart pounding in his throat; James let out a volley of curse words. “Fuck. Lily?  _ Lily _ ?”

He felt a hand close around his wrist, Dorcas’ panicked face filling his view. Another streak hit the ground, sending sprays of stone up; out of the corner of his eye he saw Marlene stand **,** shooting jets of fire through the shattered window where they had stood just minutes ago. Dorcas swore, a bit of blood trickling down her face. “We need to get out of here!”

Fabian’s face was ashen, Remus saw him wrench Gideon’s wand out of his hands. He crouched, holding the two wands in opposite hands; jets of light flew from each of the tips. Another green streak flew down, everything erupting in smoke again, Remus gagging as it hit the back of his throat. 

There was a flash of light; Marlene had conjured a long, glowing white whip, attached to the end of her wand. It shone through the smoke as she flicked it; Remus watched as it arched through the window, wrapping around something; there was a hiss of pain and a bang of gold and the white faded into mist. Remus swore, flinging his wand out, little darts of blue flying through the window. “James?”

“I have Lily.” The response came from his left, James carrying Lily over his shoulder. “She’s out from blood loss. We need to get her out.”

“The other window!” Dorcas shouted. She was crouched over Gideon’s lump body, frantically pouring something into his mouth; he let out a strangled groan. “Jump out the other window!”

“We’re on the fifth floor!” Marlene shouted, she yelped as something sliced into her shoulder. 

“ _ Do you have a better idea? _ ” 

James gave a quick nod; he blasted the window open with his wand. Bits of glass flew everywhere, Remus wincing as it sliced into his skin. “Meet at the base when you can,” he yelled, stepping out; he disappeared into the mist. 

Fabian swore as he ducked a curse; blood was running down his face and arms. He didn’t seem to feel the pain though, his eyes fixed on his brother. “Is he alright?” 

Dorcas shook her head. “We need to get him back home.”

“Split up!” Marlene screamed; she conjured a huge silver barrier that stretched over the window. “Split up! He’ll have to pick one of us to hunt down. The others may have a chance.”

Fabian stopped, cradling his brother across his chest, Gideon letting out a moan. “Get out of the apparition zone. Don’t wait up for anyone.”

Marlene winced; the silver barrier was cracking apart. “Go!” 

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Remus stepped over the window frame and jumped, the wind whistling through his ears. For a moment, he was weightless; he heard the sound of shattering glass and realized that Fabian must have jumped after him. The ground loomed closer; he thrust out his wand. “Tarda,” he gasped, a faint silver sheen spreading over the stones.

He hit the ground hard; he felt a cracking in his ribs, sharp blinding pain filling his lungs. He swore, rolling, there was smoke billowing from the broken window but he didn’t stop to look. He heard someone land behind him, knew it must be Fabian but he didn’t stop to think. With a curse he jumped to his feet, sprinting down the alleyway to his left, trying to ignore the pain in his side.

~

He can feel panic rising in his throat, the taste sharp and bitter, pressing down his mouth and into his chest. Remus gasps, sprinting down the alleyways, that maze of twisted corridors and dripping pipes. He steps in a puddle of water and curses, his shoes dripping wet, swears as he rounds the corner and hurtles down the narrow alley. 

_ Please please please please. _

The sound of his footfalls jolt him, every breath so, so painful. He had broken a rib in the fall, can feel the sharp edges cracking with every inhale, and he was pretty sure he had sprained his wrist. Remus swallows, hard, attempts to ignore the pain. 

_ Faster _ . 

There’s a soft noise behind him, a pair of boots on the cobblestone, but Remus doesn’t even bother to turn around. He reaches out, wraps his hands around a bit of slim pipe, using the momentum to swing himself around the corner. It cuts into his palms, leaving trails of bloodied crimson behind and Remus grits his teeth.

_ We sent our best _ . That’s what the death eater had said, the one that they had captured and tortured and killed.  _ We sent our best _ .  _ You’ll never escape alive. _

He remembers the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach, the way everything had gone so, so still. 

The residue from the smoke still burned his lungs; Remus coughed as he hurried down the alleyway. 

_ Split up _ , Marlene had said.  _ He’ll have to pick one of us to hunt down. _

So they did, all of them scattering and now Remus was sprinting down the maze of alleyways. He sprung, faster and faster, rounds the corner and almost smacked into the brick wall stopping the alley.  _ Fuck _ .

There’s a soft  _ whoosh _ to his left, and Remus rolled. He comes up on one knee, wand out in his hand, eyes scanning the alley behind him.  _ Shit shit shit shit -  _

At least it was him. He would rather it be him then anyone else.

Remus took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs. 

He was not afraid to die.

In front of him, he heard footsteps, slow and unhurried. The barest edge of a cloak caught his attention, a hooded figure carrying a long, slender wand. Remus swore, looking behind him, trying to measure the distance between his body and the wall, trying to see if he could climb it or fly over it or blast the whole damn thing apart - 

“Don’t bother. It’s solid brick.”

The words were low, calm and collected. For a moment, Remus froze, his mind racing, the voice so familiar and yet so alien at the same time. He swallowed, hard. “Don’t blame me for trying.” 

His throat clenched, but Remus grit his teeth. He would not give this bastard the victory of seeing him weep. 

He knew what lay ahead of him - torture and agony and transformations in a cold cell, but he wasn’t afraid. Not for himself.

But he was terrified, absolutely fucking terrified at the idea of the rest of them, the last scraps of their desperate rebellion would all die. 

He grit his teeth, hard.  _ Don’t give in. You can’t give in. _

The shadowy figure let out a low laugh. “What brings you to this shithole?”

Anger flared through Remus at the words, and he spat out a bit of blood onto the cobblestones in front of them. It glistens, in the light of the streetlamps, a perfect sphere of red. “Shut the hell up. Bastard.”

The figure shrugged, in a single fluid motion. “Pure Blood, actually. The term ‘Bastard’ is reserved for mudbloods in general.”

Remus cocked his head. He’d heard the word mudblood before, hissed into his face by Death Eaters and Purebloods alike. But he’s never heard the word said with this tone, cool and dispassionate, like the figure didn’t really believe what he was told. Something flared in his chest at the words, a small sliver of hope. “You don’t believe it. That half bloods should be eradicated. You know that they are human too.”

He saw the figure stiffen, the way their shoulders tightened and how they stood, ramrod straight. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“So you don’t,” Remus said, desperately pressing the advantage. “You don’t believe in your cause.”

The figure just stared at him, then pulls off his hood.

Remun froze. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting - an old, scarred man perhaps. Someone in his 30’s, some pure-blooded prince that he had never met before.

But the figure was a boy, the same age as Remus. He swallows as he stares, the shoulder length hair and beautiful face, those grey eyes that still shine, even in the darkness. Remus closed his eyes, just for a minute, then opened them. He could see the scars, tracing over the boy’s neck, and he knew that if the boy removed his shirt there would be similar marks there.

Remus breath caught. “No. It’s not….”

Sirius just smiled, the corner of his mouth turning up into a brutal grin. “Oh, Re. It’s very possible.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come follow me on Tumblr if you want a few sneak peaks and my other ramblings about this fic! @ashes-and-ashes-dust-and-dust


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius laughed, his head thrown back. “And what? We become best friends? Hell, we become lovers?” The word was a sneer, spat through mocking lips and Remus felt himself flinch. “What would you like me to say, Re? ‘I love you.’ ‘I’d move heaven and hell to get you.’ ‘I’ll fly to the moon and bring it down for you on a silver stick.’” He paused, lips twisted into a smirk. “Well, you probably wouldn’t like that last gift, thanks to your furry little problem.”

He couldn’t breathe.

Tried and tried, opened his mouth and choked air down and he still  _ could not breathe _ .

He felt it, as if something had been dropped on his chest, crushing all of his ribs, leaving sharp shards slicing into his heart. 

Every movement hurt.

“What….” The words fell out of his mouth in an inelegant tangle. “What the fuck?”

“Language,” Sirius said and God, he sounded exactly the same as he always did, his voice cold and steady. “When did you get so foul mouthed?”

“I’ve always been foul mouthed,” Remus breathed. He glanced behind him, cursed as he saw nothing but the bricks of the wall behind him. His wand was knocked out of his grip, spinning slowly on the cobblestones behind him, and he darted for it. 

“Don’t bother,” Sirius said. “I’m warded. No harmful spell can hurt me.” 

Remus swallowed, hard. He’d always dreamed about this, about waking up in the morning one day, finding Sirius next to him on the bed, his eyes alight with laughter, beautiful hair tossed all over the pillow. He’d always wanted to see Sirius again.

Just not like this. 

Remus swore, again, chest aching. “What - “

Sirius laughed. “Haven’t changed much in the last 4 years, have you? Eloquent as always, like you were back in school.”

Remus whipped his head back around, meeting Sirius’ gaze. “Don’t. Don’t talk about it like that. Like it was nothing.”

Sirius shrugged. “Maybe it was.”

“Bullshit.” Remus inched back, trying not to wince as his ribs grated together. He took a shaking, shallow breath, the world spinning around him. “You know - you know it wasn’t nothing.”

“I did leave,” Sirius said, almost dismissively. There was a deep slice on the arch of his cheekbone, trickling a steady stream of blood down the flesh. Remus’ eyes tracked the cut, watching it drip off Sirius’ chin. “How - “

“Marlene.” Sirius smirked. “Simple logic. Go for the strongest person.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. He took another, hesitant scoot back, biting back a moan as pain flared in his ribs. “So what. You think I’m the strongest?”

Sirius laughed, the sound cold and clear, so very different to his old laughs. “Far from it. I already told you - I went after Marlene first. Didn’t expect that you would be here. Seeing as you never liked confrontation.” He paused. “Actually, I’m pretty damn surprised you even joined the Order. On account of you hating blood and all.”

The words hit Remus; he winced, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth. It was true - he hated fighting, hated the broken bodies left behind, hated the moment when the life left the person’s eyes and their bodies slumped to the ground. 

Remus swallowed, the words making his stomach turn. He tried hard to hide his emotions, to wipe his face clean but it obviously didn’t work; Sirius’ eyes lit up with a gleam of savage triumph. “You never did like fighting, did you? Always content to sit back, to let me and James handle the conflict.”

“People can change,” Remus hissed. He took a hesitant shift backward, his hand slicing open on a piece of hard stone on the ground. Sirius just gave him a vicious smile, more teeth then lips. “Yes. They can definitely change.”

“Not….” Remus trailed off. His head was still spinning, everything blurry and slightly out of focus. For a moment, he thought he was going to pass out, the world darkening around the edges. He grit his teeth, tightened his grip on the stone in his hand, ignored the blood welling from the cut. “What the fuck happened to you, Sirius? Why….why are you - “

“People change, Remus.” There was an odd quality to Sirius’ voice. It was completely flat, monotone, the smirk fading from his lips in an instant. He looked dull, like the life had been sucked out of him, dull and dead and -

_ Lifeless _ . That was the word. Sirius looked  _ lifeless _ .

In his dreams, Sirius was always laughing, always smiling, his hair coming down in tangled around Remus’ fingers. Sirius had always been filled with life - that’s what drew Remus to him, what made Remus fall in love with him. 

Now he just looked tired, his hair hanging in limp curtains around his face, his eyes empty and cold. There were new scars everywhere, all over his skin, a new patchwork of marks over the lines that Remus already knew so well. He dragged his gaze up, forced himself to look into Sirius’ eyes. “There’s….you can come back….”

“Bullshit.” Sirius laughed, his head thrown back. “And what? We become best friends? Hell, we become lovers?” The word was a sneer, spat through mocking lips and Remus felt himself flinch. “What would you like me to say,  _ Re _ ? ‘I love you.’ ‘I’d move heaven and hell to get you.’ ‘I’ll fly to the moon and bring it down for you on a silver stick.’” He paused, lips twisted into a smirk. “Well, you probably wouldn’t like that last gift, thanks to your  _ furry little problem. _ ”

Remus felt his body go cold, as if Sirius had injected ice water into his veins. His gums and fingers ached, a brief, pounding sensation, and he thought he felt fangs hardening at the tip of his teeth. The snarl that ripped out of him was more lupine then boy as he hissed, “ _ If you told anyone - “ _

“What.” Sirius arched an eyebrow. “You’d kill me? Could you kill me?”

“I - “

“Trust me,” Sirius murmured. “It’s hard killing people who you used to love.” He leaned closer, his lips so close to Remus’ ear, his breath warm on his cheek as he whispered, “The trick is to pretend that they’re nothing.”

Remus jerked away frantically; he could feel the blood draining from his face, turning it the colour of bone. “Sirius. Sirius, what the hell happened to you - “

“Sometimes,” Sirius said, “When you’ve spent your whole life living in the shadows, spent your whole life staring into the darkness….sometimes the darkness stares back at you.” 

“You’re blind,” Remus breathed, that last bit of hope fading. “You’re insane. You really think that Voldemort will help anyone? You really think that the world would be better, with  _ him _ in charge? You’re mad.”

Sirius just cocked his head, his eyes gleaming from the flickering streetlight just above his head. “Maybe I don’t care anymore, about helping people.” 

“Sirius.” There was a lump in Remus’ throat now, his heart pounding double time, so much adrenaline flooding his body that he felt dizzy. “Sirius, this isn’t like you, you’ve always wanted to change the world - “

Sirius laughed. “What has the world ever done for me? Why not let it burn?” 

Remus coughed, spitting blood onto the streets. Desperately, he played his final card, that one last hopeless appeal to the boy he used to know. “But we live in it. James and Lily and Marlene and Dorcas. And….and me.” 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What about you?” 

Remus swallowed, letting the pain wash over his body as Sirius kept speaking. “What. You thought we actually….I actually….” He shook his head. “Don’t be stupid, Re. 4 years isn’t enough.” 

“It was for me,” Remus whispered. In front of him, he thought he saw Sirius flinch. He folded that tiny piece of triumph inside of him, locked it away in his heart. “Sirius, I’m….I’m sorry.” 

Sirius raised his head, looking him straight in the eyes. “Why.” 

“Because.” Remus hissed as his fingers closed over the handle of his wand. “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

With a sudden motion, he swung his hand up, pointing the wand at Sirius’ chest. “Somno!”

He winced as Sirius crumpled, silently, his head hitting the cobblestones hard. His face was still bleeding from the cut that Marlene had given him, staining the ground a dark red, contrasting horribly with the paleness of his skin and the darkness of his hair. 

Remus stares down at the body, his wand pointed directly at Sirius’ head.  _ I could do it _ , he thought.  _ Kill him. End the Hunter. _

He knew he couldn’t. Sirius may not love him anymore, but he would always love Sirius. Even if it killed him. 

He could never hurt Sirius.

With a wince, Remus pulled himself up on his feet, biting back a moan as the pain in his ribs flared. He only spared a glance back before he hobbled out, leaving Sirius’ body on the stones behind him.

~

He stumbled back into the base, covered in blood and water, his ribs screaming with every step he took. There’s something foul tasting inside of his mouth, like dirt and metal and the bitter tang of magic, and he tries not to gag as he pushed the doors open, waving his wand to disable the wards. “Contraxia,” he muttered to the young guard at the inner doors, barely pausing as he shoved them open. 

He almost collapsed in the foyer, on the hard wooden floor, his legs shaking and chest screaming, the blood rolling in his veins. He’s nauseous, feeling like he’s about to throw up; dimly he wonders if it is a side effect of the green smoke he inhaled, the burning, boiling feeling making his mouth ache. 

“Water,” he coughed, trying not to gag on blood and acid and spit. “I need some fucking water.”  

The room was spinning around him, in huge waves; he hears the words “medic” and “hospital wing” being said but Remus is too far gone to comprehend the words as he passes out.

~

_ In his dream, he’s with Sirius again. _

_ That doesn’t surprise him. He’s always with Sirius in his dreams. It’s how he knows it is a dream, because only in his slumbers can he fall asleep and wake with Sirius next to him on the bed, legs entwined and peacefully asleep.  _

_ “This is a dream,” he said, not even bothering to turn around to face Sirius. In the beginning, when he was young and heartbroken, soul aching and pounding, he used to pretend that it was real. He would grab Sirius, wind his fingers through his hair, kiss him and touch him and do everything he’d ever wanted to do.  _

_ But it always ended the same; waking up alone, fingers reaching out to seek Sirius’ warmth and finding nothing but emptiness. _

_ Sometimes, most of the time, it was better to accept reality, to face the world rather then hide behind half-truths.  _

_ “This is a dream,” he said again. He closed his eyes, the feeling of the smooth sheets between his legs, the warmth of Sirius at his back. “God. Why do you have to intrude into every fucking bit of my life?” _

_ Sirius laughed, the sound rich and deep, sending warmth vibrating through his body. “I’m special that way.” _

_ “That’s true,” Remus acknowledged. He shifted, slightly, enough so that he could feel Sirius’ body pressed against his, close enough that he could feel the beating of his imaginary heart. “You’ve always been special.”  _

_ He could feel Sirius’ lips curve into a smile, his breath warm on Remus’ neck. “I love you, Re,” he said. _

_ Remus smiled, closing his eyes. “I love you too.” _

_ Sirius let out a breath, Remus reaching up to wind his fingers in his hair and by God, it felt so real. “Fuck,” he said. “I wish this was actually happening. That we could be together like this.”  _

_ “Who says we aren’t?” Sirius smiles, his hand wrapping around Remus, pulling him closer and Remus closed his eyes, body aching because it had been so long, so goddamn long since someone had held him like that, like it was raining and only their hands could keep them dry. He blinked, hard; he could hear someone calling for him, miles and miles above, could sense that someone was trying to wake him up. _

_ He turned around, twisting in the sheets, pressing up until he could stare Sirius in the eyes, letting themselves swallow him up until all he could see was charcoal gray.  _

_ “Who says we aren’t?” Sirius echoed. Remus smiled sadly. “I know that we aren’t. I know this is just a dream.” _

_ “Why?” whispered Sirius and Remus laughed. “Because,” he said, brushing Sirius’ cheek. “Because you could never say ‘I love you’ in real life.” _

~

Remus woke with a gasp, his heart pounding and his mouth horribly, terribly dry. He coughed, spluttering; there was a disgusting taste that reminded him faintly of spoiled apples filling his mouth. “God…”

“Nope. Just me.” There was a blurry figure hovering over him, the edges melting vaguely together and Remus groaned. He buried his face in the pillow, head still spinning slightly, trying not to pass out again. “James?”

He could practically feel James’ grin, wincing as James leaned closer. The view of his head sharpened, making everything crystal clear and Remus blinked up at his friend. “No. Go away.”

James laughed, the sound tinged with relief. “You’ve been out for a couple of hours. Dorcas almost had a baby. You passed out right on the floor of the lobby and everything.” 

“Great,” Remus muttered. He stretched out, the tendons in his neck cracking, pulling the blankets away from the bed. His bloodstained clothes were gone, replaced with the sterile whiteness of a hospital gown, and he winced as the movement hurt his chest.

“Broken ribs,” James said, catching Remus’ pained expression. “Dorcas did what she could but she wanted to save everything for….”

Remus started; he was out of the bed in an instant, bare feet freezing on the cold floor. “Oh crap. Gideon.”

“He’s stable - “ James called out but Remus ignored him: he impatiently shoved the heavy curtains drawn around his bed aside and stalked out into the hospital wing.

There were times when the memories seemed to catch up to him, days when the only thing he could do was lie down and let the past overwhelm him. He’s always hated hospitals, the ghostly cleanness of everything, the sharp tang of magic and blood filling the air. He always wound up in them, bleeding and bruised and broken after full moons, head resting on those scratchy pillows, bottles of steaming potions on the table next to him. It always brought back bad thoughts, the past and present mixing together, and Remus cursed. 

He could see people gathered near the farmost wall; the curtains were drawn so that he couldn’t see who lay in the bed. Dorcas was pacing up and down in front of them, her dark hair in a messy bun. Lily was talking to her in a low voice; she glanced up at the sight of Remus. “What are you doing. You’re supposed to be resting.”

He knew fear made his voice sharper than usual, the words coming out with a snap. “You said it yourself, Dorcas. I can rest when I’m dead.” Sensing she was about to protest, he kept taking. “Besides. I’m fine. I’m a fucking werewolf - do you think I’ve never had injuries before?

Dorcas bit her lip; he noticed that there were blood stains on her shirt, bits on her wrist where she obviously hadn’t washed them off. “I know you’ve had injuries,” she said shortly. “I’ve treated them myself.” She paused. “The Full is this week right?”

Remus nodded, hands tightening instinctively at his side. Dorcas shrugged. “Alright. Did the Hunter go after you?”

A pang of guilt went through Remus at the words, his ribs aching for a moment. His voice was steady though, even and emotionless as he responded, “No. No, they didn’t go after me.”

Dorcas frowned. “Weird - they went after Mar for a bit then disappeared.”

Remus just gave her a wan smile, trying to avoid eye contact. “So, Gideon - “

“He’s in there,” Lily murmured, shooting Remus a concerned glance. There were heavy white bandages on her side; he remembered the gash on her ribs and winced. “Gideon. And see if you can get Fab to eat something.”

Remus sighed, running his hands through his hair; he winced at the pain from his ribs. “Do you really think Fabian is going to move from Gid’s bed.”

“No,” Lily said. “But it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Remus gave her a tight nod, finding the crack where the curtain touched the wall. He pulled it back, as quietly and gently as he could, slipping inside of the small space. 

It was like he entered another world; the lamp on the table was off, casting everything in shadows. There was a simple metal bed, a white sheet lying on top of the mattress and on top of that lay Gideon.

His eyes were closed, his face slack, but his chest was rising and falling in steady (if shallow) motions. Remus cocked his head; it was close enough to the Full that his sense of smell was heightened, to the point where everything seemed to have its own distinctive scent. Magic always smelled bitter, like the remnants of a stick after it had burned to ashes and Gideon reeked of it. He was probably coated in charms, hundreds of them, spells to regulate heartbeat and breathing, to stop the blood and to stitch together the open skin. 

Beside him say Fabian, on a small stool near the end of the bed. He looked exhausted; his face was wan and pale, dark smudges like streaks of charcoal underneath his eyes. There was blood in his hair and under his fingernails - clearly he had not left his twin’s side since the attack.

_ The attack _ . The words left a bitter taste in Remus’ mouth, something twisting viciously in his chest as he gazed down at Gideon’s unconscious body, his hair shockingly red against the whiteness of the pillow.  _ You did this _ , he thought, as if Sirius could hear him wherever he was.  _ You hurt him, and Fabian and Lily and everyone else. _

He took a shaking breath, dropping down on his knees besides Fabian. Up close he looked even worse; the skin on his face was plastered to his bones, making him look hollowed out. He had bandages too, wrapped around his wrists and shoulders, blood staining the white linen. 

Fabian didn’t even bother to look at him, hands fisted in the blankets, eyes fixed on the rise and fall of his brother’s chest. Remus blinked. “Hey Fab,” he said. “How long have you been here for?”

“Since he brought him here,” said James; he was leaning against one of the curtain rods. His face was drawn, unusually serious, fingers limp by his side. 

“So….a couple of hours then?” 

James shook his head. “2 days.”

“2 days?” Remus blinked. “But you said I was out for a few hours.”

James gave him a tired smile. “I lied. Didn’t want to stress you out.”

“ _ Stress me out - “ _

James put on a high pitched voice, obviously meant to imitate Remus. “2 days? Who died? Who lived? What’s our food situation like? How many grains of rice do we have - “

Remus flipped him off and James chuckled. “I’m going to check on Lily,” he said, and disappeared from the opening.

“Great,” Remus muttered, turning his attention back to Gideon’s body. Gently, he placed his hand on Fabian’s back. “Hey Fabian.”

“Remus.” Fabian coughed. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” Remus swallowed hard. “How is he.” 

“I don’t know.” Fabian’s voice was hoarse, like he had been screaming.  _ He probably had _ , Remus thought, flashing back to the foggy room, the air thick with green smoke. Vaguely he remembered Fabian collapsing on his knees as Gideon was struck; he wondered if he twins shared some sort of connection with each other. “I don’t know,” Fabian repeated. “Dorcas healed all the minor wounds easily but she can’t heal….” 

He trailed off, fingers tightening on the sheets. “It’s….strange.”

“Strange?” Remus echoes, and Fabian shook his head. “Just….look.”

He pulled back the covers, slowly, revealing the rest of Gideon’s body. There were bandages wrapped around his stomach, shockingly white against his scarred skin, and Remus hesitated. “You sure….”

Fabian reached over and gently removed the cloth.

Remus sucked in a breath. Not for the first time today he cursed Sirius.

The wound was long stretching from the bottom of Gideon’s rib cage to just above the opposite hip, the edges jagged and torn. The wound didn’t look too deep ( _ At least,  _ thought Remus,  _ there’s not bone showing like when James got hurt last year _ ) but it was huge, the skin flapping loosely at the ends. At the center was a huge white mark, like the colour had been drained from the skin; Remus swallowed as he examined it. It seemed to be tinted a light green, like the smoke that had filled the room when Sirius attacked them, and the blood was thicker and an odd brown colour. 

He frowned. “Is it infected?”

Fabian shook his head; Remus noticed the sheets were starting to tear underneath his grip. “Dorcas put everything on it. Even tried undiluted murtlap essence. No, it seems to be….magical almost.” And it’s spreading.”

“But…” Remus trailed off. “Will it kill him?” 

Fabian shrugged. His misery was evident, his eyes red rimmed and voice faint, hands bleeding from where his nails had cut into his skin. “See the skin around the wound? How it’s gone all white? It’s all dead cells. If that grows - “

“Gotcha.” Remus blinked rapidly, the room darkening slightly at the edges of his vision. “How long does he have?”

Fabian gently started wrapping the bandages around his brother’s torso again. “I don’t know. We’ve never seen something like this before. And we don’t even know….” He grimaced. “Our backs are against the wall. No one knows what the fuck this is. We don’t even know who the hell this Hunter is, let alone what spells they use.”

Remus’ heart stuttered in his chest, hard enough that he winced, a hand flying to his ribs. He knew his voice sounded choked when he asked, “Do you think if we found the Hunter - “

The curtain flew open magically, a bit of purple sparks lightening the room. There was someone inside the area with them, Remus vaguely recognized him but couldn’t place his name. He was tall, taller then even Fabian (which was very rare) with dark skin and strikingly golden eyes. There was a casual sort of grace to his movements, an elegance obtained purely by not giving a damn as the boy set a pot of something steaming (Renus hoped it was coffee) down on the table in the corner. He blinked, leaning against the wall. “Thought you might want some coffee. Seeing as you seem determined to spend the year here.” His voice was low, rich with the faintest hint of an accent and Remus frowned. “I feel like I know you. Have I seen you before?”

The boy flashed him a grin. “Probably. I was in his year.” He jerked his chin at Fabian, who was busy inhaling coffee. “I’m Kingsley.”

“Oh.” He knew he should say more but couldn’t bring himself to care. “I haven’t seen you around the base - “

“Just arrived yesterday.” Kingsley looped his hands behind his head, his foot propped up on the base of Fabian’s stool. “It was me and a few others. Cardoc Dearborn, Emmeline Vance and another girl - I think her name is Mary?” 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Short, brown hair, Asian?”

“Yeah.” Kingsley leaned back on his hands. “Plus some crazy looking dude? I don’t know. There was a lot of us. Anyways, we’re here now. We’ll do our best not to perish dramatically.” 

Remus forced a smile. “Yeah. Try not to.” 

He felt slightly light-headed, the room blurring and darkening and Remus presses his hand to his head. “Sorry,” he said to Kingsley, who gave him a concerned frown. “We were attacked with some kind of smoke, and I think it fucked with my head - “

“Yeah.” Kingsley stepped aside, pulling back the curtain. “You should probably get some rest.” 

Remus hesitates, glancing back at Fabian, bent over Gideon’s unconscious body, guilt twisting his insides for a moment. He had grown used to the twins being together, always inseparable, almost as if they were one person. If Fabian lost Gideon….

He winced. Fabian was always the calmer twin, the steady rock to anchor Gideon’s storm. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Gideon died. 

“It’s okay,” Kingsley said; his eyes were fixed on Remus face and Remus knew he saw the misery there. “I’ll look after him. Both of them,” he quickly added. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks,” Remus managed. He brushed his fingers over Fabian’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly. “You should try and sleep, Fab. Just a bit.”

Fabian minutely shook his head and Remus sighed. “Okay.” 

He stepped outside of the curtained area, pushing the doors open and heading up the creaky stairs. His room was on the third floor, down a dim corridor; he had chosen it because it reminded him of the halls of Hogwarts. Sometimes, on better days it filled him with contentment, the feeling of being back at school, with nothing to worry about besides exams.

But most of the time (like it did now) it just made him feel hollow. Empty. Longing for a life that he would not get back. 

Remus unlocked the door to his room, flinging himself onto the bed. Sirius’ Hogwarts robe was still bundled in a tangled heap on top of the covers, making his heart clench. He stared at it for a moment, as if it had teeth, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. With a groan, he closed his eyes, sinking to the floor. 

_ God _ , he whispered to himself, the sound muffled behind his palms.  _ God, Sirius. _

It was like he was stabbed, over and over again, each memory of Sirius now a knife in his side. He thought of him, the silliness of his voice and deadness in his eyes and the utter, lethal way he moved. The way he cursed Gideon and cut Lily and filled that narrow room with choking gas, all without blinking an eye. 

Remus swore, his hand bunching into a fist at his side, hard enough that he felt his nails start to pierce his skin. It was difficult, impossible really, to pull up that mental image of Sirius, the Sirius from Before, 4 years ago, the Sirius that he loved.

He spent too much time thinking about it, he knew, replaying the memory over and over in his head until it frayed at the edges, became thin and pale like a worn-out photograph. It was a bad habit, letting the past overwhelm him, spending too much time living with ghosts. He wondered if this was a side effect from his lycanthropy, his obsession with memories and history and the past. 

Sirius’ Hogwarts robes had slipped off the bed, falling in a shapeless puddle at his feet; he scowled, kicking the fabric away. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit; Sirius’ ring tight like a brand around his finger. He stared at it for a moment, the silver bright against his finger, sparkling tauntingly in the darkness, and Remus’ throat clenched. 

_ You’ve changed _ , he thought.  _ By God, we’ve all changed and we’ve fought and killed and now there’s no going back. _

He growled, relaxing his hand; there was blood on his palm from the shallow cuts scratched by his nails. They burned slightly, making him wince. With a scowl he pressed it against his side, letting the thick material of his pants stem the bleeding. His head was still pounding viciously, like someone was ringing a gong inside of his skull, his mouth dry and ashy and he thought he was going to throw up. 

He wanted to burn the cloak, turn it into burning embers on the stone ground, rip it to shreds and cast it away. He wanted to forget Sirius, wanted to forget everything about the Hunter and their kiss and what they once were but he couldn’t. It lingered in his brain, like some hidden parasite worming its way into his thoughts. 

He almost lit the cloak on fire right then and there, pressed the tip of his wand to the fabric. It started to smoke, the burning smell of cotton filling his nose. “Igni - “ 

With a violent curse, Remus took his wand away; there was a large burn mark on the sleeve of the robe. He scowled, the robe still smoking; he flung it across the room in a rage. “Goddamnit,” he swore. “God-fucking-damn it.” 

He was weak. He was always weak, when it came to Sirius. He had given him his heart and Sirius had blown it apart without a thought, leaving Remus to put together the bloodied pieces.

Sharply, almost viciously, Remus pulled the covers of his bed over his body, turning to face the wall, closing his eyes. The pounding in his head started to level off slightly, and Remus let out and shaking breath.

When he fell asleep, he dreamed of Sirius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this may be the last of updates for some time. I’m trying to finish the rest of the fic and then start posting chapters when it’s done. Hopefully, it turns out okay! The first 6 chapters are 22k words after all....


	4. Chapter 4

He stared at his tea, watching the milk blend in with the darkness, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. Despite sleeping for a solid 6 hours ( _ a new record since the war started _ , he thought wryly) he still felt like shit. 

James shot him a concerned look from across the hall, his hair sticking up in huge spikes, glasses crooked and barely hanging onto his nose. He frowned, obviously noticing Remus sitting by himself, muttering something to Lily as he stood, a plate full of toast in his hand, obviously intending to join Remus at his table.

With a hiss, Remus grimaced, scowling over at James.  _ No _ , he mouthed furiously, waving his arm in a flailing motion.  _ Don’t sit here.  _

James’ eyebrows flew up.  _ Don’t you want company? _

_ No,  _ Remus mouthed back, and James raised his eyebrows in mock offense. 

_ Fine. _ He sat back down at the table, leaving Remus alone with his cup of tea and his pounding headache and his gloomy thoughts. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, clinking his metal spoon against the rim of his cup. He scowled, filling the spoon with the scalding tea before taking a hesitant sip. 

There was a clatter of dishes directly opposite him, someone sliding into a seat and Remus groaned. ”Fuck off,” he muttered.

“I’ll stay for the fuck, if you insist.” 

Remus rolled his eyes, glaring up at the newcomer. He didn’t think he had ever seen him before, dark skin and darker hair and strange eyes; one was a dark green, the other a stunning bronze. He would have looked charming if not for the neon green jacket and (Remus winced) shiny black booty shorts. “Go away,” Remus moaned, dropping his spoon into the cup.

The boy gave him a dazzling grin. “No.” 

“You’re hurting my eyes with that traffic cone set up.” Remus gestured at him vaguely with his spoon. “And I am about  _ this _ close to losing my shit so if you wouldn’t mind screwing off - “

“Ooh, again with the euphemisms.” The boy shrugged. “First fucking, then screwing….” He winked. “I am flattered, but I don’t have sex with guys that I’ve just met. Actually, I don’t have sex period.” 

Remus closed his eyes, a throbbing headache already building. “Will you shut up for  _ two seconds _ ?”

“Grumpy!” He stretched out, hands above his head, that green jacket shifting up to the bottom of his ribs. “I’m Benjy, by the way. Thought you might want to know.” 

“Remus.”

“Oh I  _ know  _ you!” Benjy clapped his hands. “You’re that Hogwarts guy! The one who pretty much runs the Order!” He sat back in his chair, giving him an over-exaggerated once over. “They never mentioned how  _ good looking _ you were - “

“Oh shut up,” Remus yawned. He scowled at Benjy’s plate, piled high with all sorts of breakfast foods. “And I don’t run the Order. I’m more of a….helper.” 

“Helper.” Benjy sounded unimpressed. “You know what that sounds like? ‘Hey buddy, you wanna duck into this back alley for a bit? I’m a very good  _ helper _ with all your  _ carnal _ desires - ‘“

“Yeah, we’ve never met before,” Remus decided. “Otherwise I am certain I would have murdered you.”

“A bad guy!” Benjy exclaimed in delight. “Yes please!” 

Remus flipped him off, jerking his hand back before Benjy could slide his hand onto it. “Are you always this annoying?”

Benjy gave him a brilliant smile. “This is me  _ before _ the caffeine.” 

Remus groaned, quickly trying to change the subject. “So, what are you doing here? I don’t think I've seen you around before.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Benjy tipped his chair back, planting his feet on the table. “I’m from America. Well, the school at least. Illvermorny.”

“Oh.” Remus leaned forward in interest. “What brought you here? Like, what made you want to fight?” 

Benjy’s eyes darkened, the light making his eyes look oddly shattered. He shrugged, ruffling his hand through his hair, rumpling his already messy curls. “I was bored,” he said, his voice light. “Decided that it would be nice to come to England. Sightsee. Take a look around.” 

“I feel reassured,” Remus said drily. Benjy shrugged. “Oh well. I came over from HQ with a bunch of people. There’s this guy named Kingsley - he’s so hot I want him to bear my babies.” 

Remus thought about Kingsley, sitting at Gideon’s bedside, watching over Fabian. “Um...yeah no.” He winced, guilty at only just thinking about Fabian’s twin. “Speaking of which, I think I should go.” 

“Bummer,” said Benjy who still had that manic grin plastered on his face. “Well, nice meeting you, Remus. Re. Can I call you Re?”

“No,” Remus said quickly; Sirius old nickname for him made him wince. “Don’t call me that.”

Benjy gave him a steady look, his eyes oddly bright. “Fine. I’ll think of another name for you.” He leaned back in his chair. “See you later,  _ Remus _ .”

“Bye,” Remus said, and got up from the table, hurrying towards hospital wing.

He almost ran into Kingsley, who was leaning against the wall outside of Gideon’s bed, his gold eyes dark. He was twisting his wand in his hand sending purple sparks flying from the tip, his clothing rumpled like he had slept in them. 

“Is Gid okay?” Remus asked, concern blazing up inside of him. Kingsley gave him a steady look. 

“No,” he said, and pushed off from against the wall. “No. He’s not okay at all.”

“Fuck,” Remus swore. He caught himself pulling at his hair, an old habit left over from school and forced himself to stop. “How bad?” 

Kingsley inclined his head at the curtains. “The healer is in there. Dorcas. And Fabian….Fabian is distraught.” 

“He would be,” Remus muttered under his breath. Without another word he shoved the curtains apart, stepping into the small alcove where Gideon lay.

He could tell instantly that something was wrong. Gideon was pale, his normally golden skin a pale, sickly white. His chest rose and fell in stuttering motions, sometimes stopping for short periods of time. He couldn’t see much of the bandages, covered by the blankets, but the sheets around him were stained a reddish-brown, the colour of old blood. 

Dorcas had her wand out, pressed against his chest; as Remus watched she extracted a long, green strand out from underneath his bones. With a grim look she let the strand slide into a small jar on the side. 

Beside her, Fabian sat, eyes burning with intensity. Every time Dorcas touched the wand to Gideon’s skin he winced, as if someone was digging around inside of him with a knife. His hands were clasped firmly on Gideon’s - the knuckles were white and raw looking. 

“What’s wrong,” Remus said. He slid into the chair next to Fabian - it was warm, as if someone had just vacated the seat. 

It was Dorcas who replied, her voice tight. “The rot. It’s spread. It’s gone to his liver now; I’m trying to keep it down but it won’t stop spreading.”

“Shit,” Remus breathed, his eyes fixed on the green rope that Dorcas was now yanking out of Gideon’s flesh. “Does anyone - “

Fabian shook his head. “No one knows,” he said. “Except for me and Dor. And you. And Kingsley. I don’t - I don’t want them to worry. They can’t do anything.” 

There was a tightness in Remus’ chest, making it hard to breath, like a rope was being cranked up in his stomach. He swore again, fingers tightening on the metal bar on Gideon’s bed, guilt hitting him in relentless, sickening waves. “So there’s nothing...nothing…”

Dorcas shook her head. She was biting her lip in concentration; another bloody strand emerged from Gideon’s chest. “It’s taking all I have just to keep it contained. But I don’t know….you can’t perform the counter curse if - “

“You don’t know the spell.” Remus swore. “Right.”

“And I’ve never seen this  _ fucking  _ spell in my  _ life. _ ” Dorcas growled, flicking her wand in a complicated motion. Underneath her, Gideon let out a strangled groan, eyes fluttering and Fabian stiffened in his chair. “I’m stuck. I have no idea how to - “

She broke off, noticing Fabian; his face was the colour of bone. “Shit.” She sighed. “I’m doing my best. I won’t let him die, Fab. I’ll spend the rest of the war here if I need to.” 

Fabian said nothing, his hand tightening on Gideon’s limp one, so hard Remus thought that he could see bruises blooming on the pale skin of both their fingers. His mouth was set in a hard line, blood at his lip from where he had bitten through the flesh, the shadows underneath his eyes dark and pronounced. 

“God,” Remus said, swearing viciously under his breath. “God, Dorcas, there has to be something - “

The curtain flew open; Kingsley standing in the opening. His face was expressionless, though Remus could tell that he had heard every word of their conversation. He winced; he didn’t know Kingsley, didn’t know if they could trust him yet. Grimly, he thought of his past self, hopeful and naive and so damn trusting and Remus bit back a bitter laugh. 

No wonder he was so suddenly, violently blindsided. He only could see the best in people, only saw how high they flew and not how far they had fallen. 

Kingsley stared at Gideon’s body, the pale face and the ragged wound and Fabian’s hand curled over his brother’s in a Death-grip. “That bad?” he asked, his voice steady. 

Dorcas nodded, brow knit in concentration. “That bad.” Gideon let out another sound, as if he was choking, the breath in his lungs rattling in a stuttering motion.

“What can we do?” Remus said. “Dor, seriously, what can we do?” 

“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Dorcas snapped. She let out a shaking breath, her voice quivering slightly. “I don’t know….” 

Fabian was rigid in his chair; the cords in his neck stood ou, his hands a livid white from where they were clenched on the edge of Gideon’s bed. He looked like he was shattered, like the world was being ripped out from under his feet. Kingsley swallowed, studying Fabian out of the corner of his eye; he noticed Remus watching him and looked down. “Have you ever seen anything like this before, Dorcas?” 

“No,” she snapped, pressing a green cloth to Gideon’s chest. 

“Have you tried checking the records room - “

“I’ve been stuck here all day, trying to keep his liver from failing,” Dorcas snarled, her eyes blazing. “And if I fucking leave, he’ll die.” 

“Perfect.” Kingsley stood in one fluid motion. “We’ll go. Remus and I. To the records room. We’ll see if there’s ever been a curse like this, and if there is a way to heal it.”

Remus let out a shaking breath, something like relief flooding his body, the knowledge that at least he could help in some way. At least he could do something.

Sirius’ face flashed to the forefront of his mind, those cold eyes and vicious smile and he winced; he could feel Kingsley’s attention rest on him for a moment, could feel him studying him out of the corner of his eye. He swallowed, willing his face into a mask of marble and stone. 

“Whatever,” Dorcas said; there was blood on her face from where she had scrubbed her hands over her cheek. “Fine. Great. I’ll be in here.” 

Kingsley inclined his head at her, pulling back the curtain to let Remus out. He did, stumbling out of the dark alcove into the bright hospital wing, blinking from the sudden influx of light.

Kingsley made to follow him then stopped; with a pang of surprise Remus saw that Fabian had grabbed his wrist, his fingers wrapped around Kingsley’s arm. “Stay,” he said, not even looking up. “Please.”

Surprise flitted over Kingsley’s face, the paleness of Fabian’s fingers contrasting against the darkness of Kingsley’s arm. He coughed, then nodded, biting his lip. “Sure. I’ll stay.” 

Fabian released Kingsley’s hand - there was a mark around his wrist where Fabian’s fingers had dug into skin. Remus fought down the wave of interest that filled him, turning around to go. 

As he left, the sound of Gideon’s groaning chasing him out, a cold pit of guilt started to uncoil in his chest.

~

“Of course you would be here, Mary.”

The records room was dark, a high arched ceiling stretching over them, small lanterns hanging from the rafters. A single wardrobe stood against the wall, made from a heavy, dark wood; it seemed to shine with some strange light as Remus approached it. Leaning against the wardrobe stood Mary, her dark hair in a messy ponytail, brown eyes warm. 

She smiled. “What can I say? Books are always my weakness.”

“True.” Remus stopped in front of the wardrobe, giving the drawer an experimental pull; it was very clearly locked. “So….is this everything we have?” 

Mary shook her head. “We’re wizards dumbass. The wardrobe is enchanted. Just say what you need and the drawer will fill with all the records we have.”

Remus pulled at the handle again; he heard a faint clicking noise inside of the wardrobe. “So do I….?”

Mary reached up; there was a heavy metal key in her hand, dark with an ornate handle. She inserted it into the keyhole - it gave a number of faint clicks then spun in a complete circle and the drawer let out a petulant squeak. “Tap it with your wand. No, not like that.” She took his wand from him, tapping it on top of the keyhole; the metal around it lit up with a silvery glow. “Say what you need.” 

“Uh….” Remus trailed off, Mary’s weight a comforting presence at his side. “Curse wounds?”

There was a rattle, as if a whole heap of very heavy items had been placed into the drawer. Mary pulled it open; the drawer was filled with items, all stacked neatly on top of each other. Underneath it, 2 more drawers opened silently, presumably filled with more supplies.

Remus peered into the wardrobe; there were stacks of paper (some typed, others handwritten and some in a strange language he didn’t recognize) a few books, countless piles of scrolls and a few tablets (2 of them were definitely stone, the rest carved onto a thin plate of some sort of metal.) He frowned - there was a lot of resources and he hadn’t even opened the second drawer yet. “Where did you get all of this?” 

Mary shrugged. “It’s a two-way closet. I found it at a junk shop a few years ago. But I enchanted it to access records by tapping into the trans-dimension field between the two closets, and moving the items into one another.”

“Right.” Remus swallowed, glancing down at the piece of paper in his hand; there was a graphic illustration of a man being melted into a puddle. “Where’s the source of all this?”

Mary blushed, looking down. “Hogwarts library. I figured they wouldn’t miss it.” 

Remus stared at her. “I love you.”

She gave him a shy smile, pulling nervously on her hair. “Well, it’s really very simple spell work, and I was bored one day, and I thought that it may be useful if I enchanted it - “

“It’s brilliant,” Remus said. He placed the thin paper back down into the drawer, randomly pulling another one out; he felt Mary shiver from where she was standing behind him. “Oh that’s awful,” she muttered, staring at the illustration; it was of a woman, her face twisted in agony as layers of thick skin started to grow around her like a cocoon. Remus winced and quickly dropped the paper. “Oh by God. There’s so much in here and I don’t….”

He trailed off, Mary giving him a quizzical look. “Never mind.”

It was one of the things he loved most about Mary - she didn’t push, didn’t force herself into conversations. She merely nodded, waving her wand: a jumble of scrolls flew out of the drawer and landed in a neat pile by her feet. “This is the index,” she said, giving the pile a nudge with her foot. “I’m sure you can find whatever you’re looking for here.”

“Not likely,” Remus muttered and Mary gave him a sympathetic smile. “You could try using  _ Locatormortis  _ \- “

“But that only works if you know the keyword,” Remus replied. “And ‘green, rotting curse’ doesn’t really strike a bell.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “‘Green, rotting curse?’”

_ Shit _ . Remus bit his lip, hard; he noticed Mary giving him a concerned glace out of the corner of his eye. “Oh fu - Sorry,” he said - Mary rarely swore, plus she was a year younger then him and it was hard to curb the old habit. 

“It’s fine.” Mary shrugged, dropping to her knees gracefully in front of the large pile of scrolls. “I’m used to it, now. It’s war. I’ve seen worse.”

“Marlene stuck my lips together the last time I swore around you,” Remus said drily, “And threatened to remove my tongue if I ever did it again.”   
Mary giggled. “That was 5 years ago! And Marlene will use any excuse that she has to hex people.”

Remus hid his smile behind the scroll that he had just picked up. He still remembered it - he had tripped in the library, landing awkwardly on his knees (bruised from the Full 3 nights ago.) Mary had been at a nearby table, tutoring Mary in Arithmancy, and was perfectly in earshot of the torrent of filth that had spewed from Remus’ mouth. In the span of 2 seconds, Remus’ mouth had been sealed shut and Mary had promptly knocked her ink bottle all over the books in horror, leading to all of them spending a night in detention scrubbing bedpans. 

“We probably corrupted you so much, Mary.”

Mary smiled - her eyes thoughtful. “No,” she said. “I don’t think  _ you _ did. You were perfectly nice around me. It was Sirius who corrupted me.”

_ Sirius _ . Remus could almost see him, the ghost of him laughing, could practically hear his voice winding through the corridors.  _ Asians stick together _ , he had once said, flinging his arms around Mary.  _ Who else will gush about xiǎolóngbāo with me? _

He swallowed, trying to hide the aching feeling in his throat. “What is xiǎolóngbāo anyways?”

“Oh, it’s the best.” Mary smiled; Remus could tell she was reliving the memory. “It’s basically hot soup and meat inside of a dumpling, and you put it on a spoon then puncture it with a chopstick and eat it with ginger and soy sauce….” She trailed off. “Goodness, I haven’t had some in ages.”

“It sounds amazing,” Remus said and Mary winked. “Okay. You and me. I’ll take you out to try some. Once….”   
_ Once this is over _ . The words hung in the air between them, heavy and dark, and Mary swallowed. “Once we get out of this,” she finished and Remus gave her a wan smile. “Always optimistic, right Mary?”

“One of us has to do it. What with all of your depressing antics.” 

“I am not depressing!” Remus said indignantly; Mary rolled her eyes. “Sure.”   
“I am  _ not _ !”

Mary hit him with the scroll she was holding. “Shut up and start reading. We have a lot to get through.”

Remus bit back a smile as he leaned back against the wall.

~

“Remus?”

Remus blinked as he poked his head up from the massive scroll he was holding. He had been scanning the index for almost 3 hours, a massive list of all possible curses that Gideon may have been affected with at his side. Mary looked up from where she was perched on a number of boxes, her legs crossed demurely at the ankles. 

Kingsley stood in the doorway, the light flooding in behind him so that Remus couldn’t see his face. He swallowed, hard, then wrenched the door open wider. “You have to come. Now.”

“What’s wrong.” Terror flooded through Remus’ body, something icy and numbing. “Is everyone okay? Are we under - “

Kingsley cut him off, shooting a quick glance at Mary. “Does she know?”

“ _ She _ has a name.” Mary crossed her arms. “And Remus has not told me anything regarding this secret, so no.  _ She _ doesn't know.”

Kingsley winced, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize later, I swear, but Remus has to come with me _ now _ .” 

“Fine,” said Remus, and he got to his feet, the soreness in his legs and his shoulders making him shudder. He raised his arms above his head, grimacing at the popping noises that vibrated through his bones, the faint stretching that seemed to rip through his body. He followed Kingsley out of the dark room, into the narrow hallway, shutting the door behind him.

The minute he did, Kingsley sagged against the wall, his head knocked back against the wood. The tension was apparent in his body, in the hard lines of his shoulders and the redness in his eyes. “Jesus.”

“Have you slept at all?” Remus rubbed at his face - his eyes burned from reading all of those scrolls. He held out a hand, a list of spells scribbled hastily on the paper. “This is what Mary and I found, and she’s still in there - “

Kingsley shook his head. The orange light from the candles turned his skin golden, like he was a statue carved out of bronze, an ethereal figure in the darkness of the hallway. “I haven’t left the hospital wing at all.”

Remus shuddered. “How’s….”   
“Not great.” Kingsley sighed. “We’re all running on empty. Dorcas is going to pass out any minute - I had to call her girlfriend over to cast a few energy spells on her. And Fabian….he’s gone to pieces. There’s no other way to describe it.”

“Fuck.” He was going to throw up; bile was filling his mouth, making his stomach churn with its sour taste, guilt hitting him in waves. “How’s Gideon?”

“He stopped breathing a few times.” Kingsley’s voice was grim. “I think it’s spread to his lungs.” 

His joints ached, painfully, making Remus grit his teeth, and he thought he felt his teeth start to harden into points. He grasped onto the wall frantically, fingers biting into the wood, head spinning and he wasn’t sure if it was from shock or guilt or….

“Kingsley,” he ground out. “Kingsley, when’s the full?” 

Kingsley gave him a confused look. “The full…?”   
The door flew open, Mary standing in the corridor. It was obvious she had been eavesdropping, her ear pressed to the wall but she didn’t look remotely concerned or abashed. “Tomorrow night,” she said. 

Remus gave a weak nod; pain was erupting over his body in scarlet waves, making his head spin. “I need….”

Mary nodded. “James,” she said and took off, sprinting down the hallway; she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Kingsley swore, whirling around, where Remus was curled up on the floor. “Remus?”   
“I’m fine,” he gritted out; another wave of pain hit him and he winced. “Just….”

Understanding bloomed on Kingsley’s face. “You’re a werewolf,” he breathed. 

He was too tired and in pain to deny it. “Usually….I have….meds but….Gideon. I forgot.” 

Everything was going fuzzy - Remus knew he was about to pass out, that familiar feeling of slowly sinking into nothingness. There were footsteps coming towards him, and he thought he heard Kingsley’s voice, panicked and rough but Remus couldn’t hold on. For the third time in the last 2 days, Remus closed his eyes.

~

When he woke up, he was in a cell. Metal bars over the door, no windows or skylights. A small, brick room, 15 paces long and 13 paces wide. In the corner was a bit of hay and a couple of barrels, and above that was a set of silvery chains. 

Remus swallowed, reaching out hesitantly to brush his fingers against the bars, biting back a hiss as his fingers began to burn.  _ Good _ , he thought, trying to ignore the tremors starting to make their way through his body.  _ They actually listened. _

The first time he had transformed in this place it was terrifying. He had grown used to Hogwarts, the familiar sight of the Shrieking Shack, the comfortable scent of the woods around him, of dirt underneath his feet and the open sky. Of running until his legs burned and aches, covered in bleeding scratches for days afterwards. There was always a sense of freedom in transforming, a guilty pleasure because at least he couldn’t be held responsible. Whatever he did was out of his control and Remus relished the feeling, craved it, the sense that he was spiraling between the waves. 

It was part of the reason he had fell in love with Sirius. Sirius was a thunderstorm, lightning dancing over water, grace and power and something that could only be weathered. His mother used to tell him that he had both feet anchored on the ground, but when Sirius touched him, Remus felt like he could fly. 

So it had been a shock, then, when he joined the Order and realized that he couldn’t transform in the open air. 

Remus hissed under his breath and reached for the chains. They were warm in his hand, burning slightly and he frowned; they had mixed silver dust into the metal instead of making the chains out of pure silver like he had asked. He tightened his grip; it made the metal sting a little more but barely enough to be noticed. 

“We did that for a reason.”

Remus whipped his head around; James was standing there, his expression grim. 

“And why,” Remus said, “Did you do that?” 

James shrugged, spinning his wand around through his fingers. “Because silver burns werewolves.”

“Oh really?” Remus muttered. He dropped the chains with a clatter, pooling into a shining coil by his feet. “I never would have guessed.”

James sighed in exasperation. “I’m not putting my best friend in chains that burn his feet - “ 

“I’m not your best friend. Not when I transform.”

James met his eyes. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.” 

Remus swore. “Look. I’m a hazard here. The  _ least _ you can do is chain me up, maybe in a silver sarcophagus and lock me down here during the Full. Because that… _ thing _ doesn't think. It doesn’t care. If it got the chance it would tear through the camp and I’d wake up the day after covered in blood and I wouldn’t know what had happened.”

James whistles. “Dramatic,” he said and Remus clenched his teeth. “Are you an idiot?” he demanded. 

James smiled serenely. “Maybe,” he said and if it wasn’t for the bars Remus would have hit him right there and then. “Jesus Christ, James,” he muttered. “This isn’t a joke.” 

“I know.” James looked down; there were shadows under his eyes, ashy against the darkness of his skin. “But I’m barely coping as it is.”

Remus swallowed, cursing himself softly. There was a rare sort of rawness in James’ voice, usually covered by the laughs and jokes and banters. He swore, running his hands through his hair. “I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it - “

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” James said softly. With a groan he sunk against the wall, sliding down onto the floor, his head in his hands. “God,” he said, his shoulders shaking; he was suddenly laughing, that unhinged, hysterical laugh when one was going into shock. “Everything is really going to shit, isn’t it? I mean, Gideon’s dying, Dorcas has gone insane. We’ve lost like all of our scouts and Dumbledore has fucked off to God knows where. We’re screwed.” 

“Don’t say that,” Remus whispered and James threw his hands in the air. “Sure. There’s still  _ hope _ . ‘As long as there’s hope, there’s a chance’ and all that. Dumbledore sure made some pretty speeches.” He looked down; there was a small bit of metal, a shaving from one of the bars on Remus’ cage, and James picked it up. He twisted it around in his hands, the rod flashing in the dim light and Remus was reminded of James, 5 years ago underneath the tree on the Great Lawn, the silver-bright spark of the Golden Snitch between his fingers. “And I can’t help but feel responsible, you know? Fuck it, I  _ am  _ responsible. If any of you guys die, that’s on me - “

“What the hell?” Remus shook his head. “James. James,  _ no _ . You didn’t  _ force _ us to fight, we  _ joined _ . Because we believed that there was something to fight for, something that is worth our  _ lives _ to protect.”

“But I told you guys about it,” James whispered and he let his head rest against the wall. The light flashed off his glasses, making it look like he was crying tears of starlight, though his eyes were dry. “I told you guys all about it, and I gave you that speech - “

“I would have joined anyways,” Remus said firmly. “We all would have.” 

James gave a half-nod but Remus could tell that he didn’t believe him. He bit his lip, the skin around it going white, shocking against the coffee tones of his skin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“You’re not our leader,” Remus said gently. “You’re not responsible for all of us.”

“I know,” James said. He gave a little laugh. “You guys are all bloody useless. Someone needs to do it.”

Remus laughed too, stretching his legs out in front of him. The painkiller had kicked in, turning everything blissfully numb; he massaged his knees with a wince. “How long until the full?”

“A couple of hours,” James replied. He stretched, his hands reaching above his head and gave Remus a half-smile. “So. Newcomers. Thoughts?” 

“Ugh.” Remus picked at a crack in the ground. “I’m glad Mary’s here at least.”

“Yeah, Mary’s a sweetheart.” James smirked. “And you’ve met Benjy, right?”

“Black booty shorts,” Remus grumbled. “It’s like he’s permanently high on caffeine.”

James snorted. “He asked me for ‘15 minutes of wild time’ today. In front of Lily too. And when she told him off, he started hitting onto her as well. Invited himself over for a threesome and everything.” 

“Sounds like him. Though I’ve only really talked to him for a couple of minutes.” 

James smirked. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle talking to him for more than 5 minutes at a time.”

“New interrogation technique,” Remus said drily. “Forget Crucio. Just lock the poor bastard in a room with Benjy for an hour. An hour of aggressive come-ons and the poor guy will be spilling every secret under the sun.” 

James laughed. “I say 30 minutes.”

“15 if he wears neon green booty shorts.” Remus cocked his head. “How’s Gideon by the way?” 

James winced. “The rot’s spread. Past his stomach now.”

“Shit,” Remus cursed. “That fast?” 

James nodded. “Fabian….I don’t know how he’s managing. Kingsley’s barely left his side, but he won’t let anyone else in. I just found out,” he added. “He didn’t want to tell anyone. Didn’t want to make us feel bad. But everyone’s searching for a cure now, and Dorcas just has to keep the rot from reaching his heart.”

Remus twisted his finger savagely; a small piece of rock spring free from the stone with a crack.  _ Just like me _ , he thought.  _ Falling to pieces. _

“There’s nothing - “

“No,” James said, and his voice was like ice. “You are not looking for the Hunter. You are not going to find them and they will not give you the antidote.”

“If there’s a chance that they have something that can help Gideon - “

“ _ No _ ,” James hissed. 

Remus cocked his head. “And if I chose to go anyways?”

“I’ll knock you out.” 

“You’re not my master, James.”

“You could never beat me in a duel.” James gave him a small smile and in that moment Remus could see the legendary James Potter, the boy who had fought his way through an entire legion of Death Eaters and lived to tell the tale. People often forgot about James, how deadly of a warrior he was. They rarely forgot twice.

With a groan, Remus spread out on the ground, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Fine. But if no one can find anything - “

“We’ll figure it out.” 

“Reassuring.” Remus tried for a smile but knew it came out like a forced grimace. He winced. “God. How did it come to this?” 

James fell silent; he was staring at the ground, as if the answers to Remus’ question lay there. “We make choices, I guess. Good ones, bad ones. We make choices and we stick with them and we have to find a way to live with them in a way that lets us sleep at night.” 

“Looks like a lot of sleepless nights,” Remus muttered and James laughed. “Sleep is for the weak.” 

~

He didn’t expect it to be this bad.

He was huddled in the corner, chains attached to his feet, heavy manacles on his hands. There was a muzzle, too, attached to his mouth with heavy iron straps that locked behind his head; they couldn’t afford anyone hearing his howls. 

He thought he was going to throw up, with all the metal and iron and the cold stone pressing into his body. The pain rippled through him in steady, brutal waves, making him grit his teeth. 

The transformations were always different. They were never easy - there was always burning, shredding fire, the agony of cracked bones and tearing skin - but some nights were worse than others. Some nights there was nothing, no brief reprieves from pain, when he could do nothing but curl up in the corner and plead that he would pass out, would fall unconscious so that he didn’t have to feel anything. 

But tonight Remus lay there, trapped in his own head as the spasms slowly grew worse, biting back screams. 

He remembered a night 5 years ago, the first Full with his friends. He remembered the Stag and the Rat and the Dog, remembered the shock of elation he had felt when they had snuck down to see him. He remembered the sounds of James’ footsteps around the shack, Peter standing protectively over his curlers figure, Sirius’ cool fingers brushing against his face. Sirius had leaned in, whispered  _ I’ll always be here with you _ and Remus thought that they might kiss right then and there.

He holds onto the memory as he begins to Change, as he feels the ribs inside his chest one by one start to snap into pieces, grasps onto it with a death-grip and tries to remember a better time.

~

_ The Wolf is furious.  _

_ It doesn’t know how long it’s been, only knows that it has been ages and the animals have not yet come back.  _

_ With a snarl it tosses its head, wrenching against the chains that had even locked around its legs, contorting it into some foreign pose. It has learned over the years, learned that most chains cannot contain it.  _

_ The sharp yanks prove fruitless, however, only serving to drive the burning pain deeper into its flesh. The Wolf snarls, though the sound is muffled by the odd metal contraption placed over its snout. _

_ It’s starving, but there’s nothing in the cell. The Wolf remembers the Outside, the cold air and rustling trees, the moon bright against the ground. It remembers jumping over rocks and splashing in trees, always with the Animals. There was the Stag, the cunning-eyed Rat and the Dog. _

_ The Wolf always liked the Dog, though it didn’t know why. There was some instinct, some glimmer of recognition that drew it to the Dog, some longing from the Other beast that occupied its skin. _

_ The Wolf hated transformations, hated the shredding and stitching, everything snapping into some odd form. It used to hate the Other, the wrongness of its form. It used to try and punish the Other, back in the beginning, ramming its body into rocks and trees to cause gashed lines that would be there when the Other woke. _

_ But many moons had passed and the Wolf was tired. _

_ It wanted its friends. _


End file.
